Cat's Cradle
by Jetshinsei
Summary: Bruce gets a visit in the middle of the night from the girl who had been nothing more than aloof towards him since the day she appeared in his life. Bruce/Selina.


**Cat's Cradle**

**AN: Oh man, I saw the new episode of Gotham and instantly thought of this fic idea. I don't really ship it just yet, but it's cute. Spoilers for last week's episode, I guess, so stop here if you haven't seen it. I think it's Harvey Dent? You were warned. I don't own Gotham.**

Bruce yawned and set the case files he'd been reading over for the tenth or eleventh time down on the coffee table in front of him. It was well after eleven, and he was slightly surprised that Alfred hadn't come in to check on him yet. Perhaps he was busy shadowing Cat to make sure that she wasn't trying to make off with the Wayne family fortune like she'd threatened to do at dinner if he didn't make her a grilled cheese sandwich and milk for breakfast the next morning.

He felt a slow smile spread across his face as he remembered how much he'd enjoyed his little bread war with Selina. Sure, he hadn't gotten a kiss out of it because bloody hell she was flexible and her reflexes were better than anyone he'd ever seen, but he still hadn't fun like that in a long time. Not since...

His eyes heavy he fell back onto the couch, head hitting one of the many throw pillows on the chair and body succumbing to fatigue almost instantly. He didn't know how long he'd been out before he heard the slight click of the study door opening and the old, creaky hinges groan under the effort of holding up the heavy slab of oak.

Thanks to his recent training, he'd become extra sensitive to noise and pulled himself out of his deep sleep. He didn't allow himself to fully wake, though, since it was most likely just Alfred coming in to check on him or put him to bed as he tended to do whenever he found him like this. He didn't understand why the man was so adamant about him putting on pajamas and walking up a flight of stairs just to sleep in his own room. The couch was every bit as comfortable as his own bed and why did he need to be in special clothing just to sleep anyway? Who decided that a flannel shirt and pants was more comfortable than a cotton button-up and slacks?

He heard the door quietly click shut a few seconds later and he allowed himself to relax again. Just like he'd thought Alfred had been checking to see if he was still reading over case files and thankfully had decided against waking him up. Perhaps even he had seen the futility of-

His thoughts stopped short when he felt the couch shift slightly, and his heart began to thump as he heard the quiet, slightly elevated breathing of whomever was slowly creeping their way towards him. Alarms instantly began to go off in his head. Was he being attacked? Was someone trying to kidnap him? His hand was just starting to slowly reach for the small knife he kept in his back pocket ever since the night of his parent's murder when he felt a lithe, warm body slide into the empty area next to him.

Bruce froze. He wasn't fully awake, but he still felt a small pair of hands grab his left arm and move it so that the person could slip underneath. Soft, almost fur-like hair rested against his bicep and pushed itself into his face, forcing him to breath through his nose or risk suffocating in the thick mass of curls. The figure adjusted itself a few times as if trying to find the most comfortable position before eventually letting loose what sounded like a sigh. By now he had no doubt who had slid onto the couch with him, but what absolutely puzzled him was the reason why. Except for that afternoon, Cat had been nothing but aloof towards him since the day she'd arrived.

He wasn't really sure what to do. His experience with girls thus far had been coquettish smiles from those that Alfred insisted were after his money or status, but he instinctively knew that she was different. He could tell just by looking at her that she was completely unimpressed with everything about his life, and that intrigued him about as much as it irritated him. Unlike every other person he'd met up until now who had been either jealous, or envious, or overtly kind towards him, she wasn't afraid to treat him as though he was nothing. It was a humbling, if not painful feeling.

He liked that she was the kind of girl who preferred to make her own way in life and got a thrill out of living every day as if it were her last. Not that she was reckless. Far from it, in fact. She simply saw what she wanted and...well, _took_ it. Like him she had seen far too much and had grown up much too fast, but unlike him, she didn't seem to dwell on any of it and accepted that it was just how her life was. She rolled with the punches and got up again with her fists raised and ready for the next one.

It was fascinating to him how expressive yet closed off she was, hiding behind a bevy of smirks and grins while holding how she really felt near to her chest. He could never tell what she was thinking behind those piercing, all-knowing green eyes of hers, and as someone who thoroughly enjoyed a good puzzle or mystery, it was both frustrating and incredibly exhilarating.

So he lie there, eyes closed and heart thumping as she scooted closer into his side. She turned and gripped his midsection to avoid falling off of the narrow chair as his mind cycled through every possible rhyme or reason as to why she was doing this. He was thankful for the darkness as he was sure his face was all kinds of red at that moment.

He waited for a few minutes before feigning a yawn and turning his head, freeing his mouth from the ball of fur threatening to smother him and simultaneously tightening his grip on her side. He felt her body tense slightly, and he tried his best to keep his breathing deep and even so that she wouldn't know he was awake. His act must have been good enough as she eventually relaxed again into him, head falling a little more against his chest.

Bruce sat tight for another a few minutes and then took a deep breath, surreptitiously inhaling her unique scent because even though it was somewhat creepy, who knew when he'd get another chance like this? His first thought was that there was something calming about her smell, and after a second, he recognized the fragrance as his mother's soap. Alfred must have given it to her, or much more likely she'd probably swiped it at some point during the day to bathe with. She seemed to have an uncanny knack for taking things you either wouldn't notice or wouldn't care were gone until she let you know. It was strange to smell his mother on Cat, but combined with her earthy and somewhat sweaty scent, it served to calm him to the point where he felt himself begin to drift back off into a deep sleep.

The next thing he felt was the sunlight hitting his face through the large study windows, and sitting up, he stretched his arms high towards the vaulted ceiling above him. He'd somehow slept better than he had in months, the murder of his parents not invading his dreams at all for the first time since it'd happened. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down expecting to see a messy bird's nest of brown hair, but instead saw nothing except for the empty space where she should've been. He was initially saddened that she'd gone, but after thinking about it a little more, realized that it was probably for the best. He couldn't begin to fathom how he'd explain their somewhat precarious position to a what would be an undoubtedly incensed Alfred.

Standing and stretching once again he walked out of the door, eager to catch a glimpse of black clothes and wild brown hair on his way to the dining room. "Good morning, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he entered, folding the newspaper he'd been reading before he came in. "I didn't think you'd be joining us for breakfast this morning."

"Us? Was Cat here?" Bruce asked perhaps a bit too eagerly as his guardian set down a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon.

The man's expression noticeably tightened at the mention of their new house guest's name, but he stiffly nodded his head. "She insisted upon taking her food elsewhere. I believe she referred to the act of eating together as 'for squares.'"

Bruce laughed slightly. It sounded exactly like something she would say. "So, the roof? Thank you, Alfred." He grabbed his plate and headed up the staircase, purposefully ignoring the chidings of his butler as he ascended. He easily found her sitting on the edge of the roof, the very edge he'd stood upon dozens of times in an attempt to conquer his fear of heights. Or maybe jump. He'd never been too sure what his true purpose for doing that was.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, sitting down next to her with his plate in his lap. It really was an amazing view, made even moreso by the girl sitting to his left. It looked like she'd just finished her breakfast as the empty plate next to her contained nothing but a few greasy crumbs and the glass only a tiny sip of milk.

Without missing a beat she shrugged. "I slept alright. Did you know you snore?"

With that Cat grinned and stood up, not so secretly enjoying the dumbfounded look on his face. They both knew he'd expected her to try to pretend nothing had happened the night before, but only _she_ knew that she was going to call his bluff. Even if it embarrassed her a bit, it embarrassed him even more and she loved nothing more than to watch him squirm. Well, maybe she loved cats a little bit more, but making him uncomfortable was definitely in her top three favorite things.

"No, I didn't," he replied slowly, swallowing to rid himself of the nervous lump that had formed in his throat. "What else do I do in my sleep?"

Her eyebrows shot up into her forehead as she hadn't expected him to be able to say _anything_ let alone something that was actually a bit witty, but it was quickly followed by a mischievous smile while she turned to walk back inside.

"I'll let you know tomorrow."


End file.
